A  PAGEANT  FOR 
NDEPENDENCE  DAY 


STAGE  GUILD  PAGEANTS 
'    INDEPENDENCE  DAY    - 


A  PAGEANT  FOR 
INDEPENDENCE  DAY 

BY 

KENNETH  SAWYER  GOODMAN 
&  THOMAS  WOOD  STEVENS 

AUTHORS  OF  "THE  DAIMIo's  HEAD,"  "THE  MASQUE 
OF  MONTEZUMA,"  "QUETZAL'S    BOWL," 
"  RYLAND,  A  COMEDY," 
ETC. 


THE  STAGE  GUILD 
CHICAGO 


Copyright,  1912,  by  Kenneth  Sawyer  Goodman 

and  Thomas  Wood  Stevens. 

All  rights  reserved. 


NoTiCB.  Application  for  permission  to  per- 
form this  play  should  be  made  to  The  Stage 
Guild,  1527  Railway  Exchange  Building,  Chi- 
cago ;  no  performance  of  it  may  take  place 
without  consent  of  the  owners  of  the  acting 
rights. 


NOTE 

This  Pageant  was  written  at  the  suggestion  of  the 
Sane  Fourth  Association  of  Chicago,  and  first  pro- 
duced under  its  auspices,  assisted  by  the  Chicago 
Woman's  Club,  at  Jackson  Park,  Chicago,  the  even- 
ing of  July  4,  1911.  The  performance  was  free  to  the 
public,  and  the  audience  was  officially  estimated  at 
twenty  thousand  persons.  The  Pageant  is  now  pub- 
lished in  the  belief  that  it  may  provide  or  suggest  to 
progressive  communities  a  more  logical  method  of 
celebration  than  that  against  which  the  Sane  Fourth 
Associations  are  in  active  protest,  being  an  attempt  to 
show  in  dramatic  form  some  of  the  conditions  which 
led  to  the  American  Revolution  ;  to  explain  the  situa- 
tion of  the  Continental  Congress  previous  to  its  Dec- 
laration of  Independence;  and  to  make  plain  the  effect 
of  this  Declaration  upon  the  position  of  Washington 
as  commander  of  the  American  army. 

The  Pageant  in  the  form  here  given  is  not  designed 
for  presentation  on  a  very  great  scale.  It  may  be 
played  by  a  hundred  participants  ;  or  the  number  may 
be  augmented  to  four  or  five  hundred  where  funds 
for  extensive  costuming  are  available.  It  is  "intended 
for  outdoor  evening  production,  with  simple  profile 
scenery  such  as  may  be  constructed  and  painted  any- 
where. The  scenes  are  arranged  for  rehearsal  as  units, 
so  that  the  number  of  general  rehearsals  may  be  re- 
reduced  to  a  minimum.  It  is  the  belief  of  the  authors 
that  the  complete  reading  of  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence should  be  incorporated  in  the  performance ; 
but  as  this  document  is  of  considerable  length  it  may 


seem  advisable  to  some  stage  directors  to  curtail  the 
reading,  letting  the  Messenger  lead  off  the  crowd  at 
the  close,  and  playing  the  final  scene  immediately 
upon  his  exit.  This  point,  as  well  as  many  details  of 
costume  and  setting,  may  be  left  to  the  director  in 
charge.  The  purpose  of  this  book  is  rather  to  sug- 
gest a  definite  and  congruous  plan  for  a  community 
celebration — one  which  may  be  developed  into  a 
graphic  and  vivid  appeal  to  the  emotions  of  patriot- 
ism, and  one  not  wholly  unrelated  to  historical  truth. 


CHARACTERS 
The  Town  Crier 

SCBNB  I 

A  Lame  Boy 

Paul  Revere 

Dick,  one  of  the  Sons  of  Liberty 

Mr.  Went  worth,  a  Merchant 

Mistress  Truth  Jackson 

Colonel  Spots  wood,  a  British  Officer 

William  Jackson,  a  Loyalist  Merchant 

Governor  Hutchinson 

Ensign  Pritchard 

Samuel  Adams 

SCENE  II 

Martha  Washington 

Miss  Malby 

Mrs.  Fairfax 

Lady  Caroline  Dunmore 

Colonel  George  Washington 

Edmund  Pendelton 

Patrick  Henry 

Charles  Dunmore 

Pompey 


SCENE  III 

Captain  Parker,  of  the  Lexington  Minute  Men 

Mr.  Harrington 

A  Young  Farmer 

Bowman,  a  patriot  messenger 

Major  Pitcairn 

L,ord  Percy 

lieutenant  Nash 

A  Trooper 

Mrs.  Harrington 

SCENE  IV 

First  Sentry 

Second  Sentry 

The  Butcher's  Boy 

Lieutenant  Prosby 

General  Sullivan 

General  Washington 

Colonel  Wells 

Captain  Marsh  of  the  Militia 

Colonel  Reed 

Colonel  Patterson,  British  Army 

The  Messenger 


THE  CRIER. 

Oyez,  Oyez,  Oyez !    Folk  of  this  town, 

For  whom  brave  days  and  heedless  festivals 

Have  dimmed  the  price  your  steadfast  fathers  paid, 

The  price  of  freedom  bought  with  tears  and  blood, 

I  call  you  back  across  the  prosperous  years  — 

I  with  my  bell  and  lantern  call  you  back, 

And  bid  you  look  upon  my  town  and  time. 

Here  's  Boston.     Seventeen  seventy- four  the  year. 

The  town's  still  loyal  to  the  King;  yet  we, 

The  sons  of  the  stern  pilgrim  strain,  we  bear 

With  an  ill  grace  his  growing  tyrannies. 

Dark  laws  he  gives  us,  and  he  binds  our  hands 

With  no  consent  of  ours,  no  voice  of  ours 

To  speak  in  his  far  councils.    Tax  and  tithe 

He  levies,  shuts  our  ports  to  ships,  and  breaks 

One  after  one,  our  ancient  chartered  rights. 

We  lift  our  voices,  and  he  turns  away. 

We  cry  for  justice,  and  he  strikes  us  down. 

Yet  we  are  men  of  English  'blood ;  in  us 

The  spirit  that  broke  free  at  Runnymede 

Still  burns.    These  colonies  are  scattered,  frail, 

Not  of  one  mind:  but  this  hot  fire  of  wrong 

May  fuse  them  into  undivided  mi?ht. 

Let  George  the  Third  the  King  beware.    For  now 


In  the  hard  driven  North,  men  meet  and  choose 
Voices  to  cry  forgotten  freedoms  back. 
The  Congress  gathers  from  each  colony 
The  men  of  worth  and  courage,  councillors 
Of  the  new  order.    And  our  people  turn 
Each  to  his  choice — for  or  against  the  King. 

SCENE  I.  //  is  a  Spring  evening  in  the  year  1774. 
The  place  is  a  quiet  street  in  the  outskirts  of  Bos- 
ton. There  are  no  houses  in  sight,  but  a  ivhite 
picket  fence,  a  high  hedge  behind  it,  crosses  tlie 
back  of  the  stage.  In  the  centre  is  a  gate  with 
tall  posts,  on  one  of  which  is  sitting  a  lame  boy 
with  a  crutch.  He  is  looking  intently  up  the  street, 
from  which  direction  one  can  hear  shouting  and 
singing.  The  sound  grows  louder  and  nearer. 

THE  BOY  [  Waving  his  cap  and  crutch] .  Here  they  come ! 
Here  they  come !  Hurrah !  Hurrah !  Hurrah !  Here 
come  the  Liberty  Boys! 

[A  crowd  of  men  and  boys  marches  across  the 
stage,  singing,  shouting,  and  laughing.  Some 
are  carrying  bundles  of  firezvood,  and  one  is 
wheeling  a  barrow  with  a  dummy  in  it.  The 
last  man  in  the  crozvd  stops  and  speaks  to  the 
lame  boy.] 

THE  MAN.  Well,  youngster,  I  hope  you  will  always 
shout  like  that  for  the  cause  of  Liberty. 

THE  BOY.  Oh,  sir!  That  was  my  brother  Tom  with 
the  wheelbarrow !  He  put  me  up  here  so  I  could 
see  them  go  by. 

THE  MAN.  Are  n't  you  coming  along  to  see  the  bon- 
fire? 

THE  BOY.  No,  sir;  I  'm  lame.  I  can't  walk  fast 
enough. 

THE  MAN  [Offering  his  back].  Climb  on  my  back.  A 
good  patriot  like  you  deserves  a  lift. 


THE  BOY.  No,  sir;  I  mustn't.  I  'm  to  stay  here  and 
watch  for  the  British  lobster-backs.  I  've  got  my 
orders. 

THE  MAN.  A  sentry,  eh?  Good!  I  won't  tempt  you 
to  leave  your  post.  [Laughing.]  Paul  Revere  always 
salutes  a  soldier  and  a  patriot.  Good  luck,  lad.  [He 
gives  a  military  salute  and  hastens  after  the  crowd.] 

THE  BOY.    Good  luck,  sir !    Hurrah  for  Liberty! 
[Dick  enters  unth  posters.    He  tacks  one  on  a  tree.] 

THE  BOY.    Hullo,  Dickon. 
DICK.    Hullo,  Boy. 

THE  BOY.  Why  ain't  you  with  Father  and  Tom? 
They  're  burning  a  figure  of  old  Granny  Brewster  in 
front  of  her  shop  because  she  sells  British  tea. 

DICK.  I've  got  orders  to  put  these  up.  [Very  im- 
portantly.] It's  serious  business;  I  durst  n't  let  the 
soldiers  catch  me  at  it.  Look  here !  [He  taps  his  post- 
ers proudly.] 

THE  BOY.    Oh,  Dick !    What  are  you  putting  up 

DICK.  A  proclamation  from  the  Sons  of  Liberty.  It 's 
about  old  William  Jackson,  the  Tory  merchant. 

THE  BOY.    Is  he  a  Tory? 
DICK.    Everybody  says  he  is. 

THE  BOY.  I  thought  so.  There  's  a  British  officer  tak- 
ing supper  with  him,  and  Governor  Hutchinson  's 
there,  too. 

DICK.    Is  this  William  Jackson's  gate? 
THE  BOY.    Yep. 

DICK.  Good !  [He  runs  over  and  tacks  a  poster  on  the 
other  gate-post.]  I  guess  he  won't  miss  seeing  that 
when  he  comes  out. 

THE  BOY  [Looking  over  the  hedge].  Help  me  down ; 
quick!  Help  me  down!  They're  coming  out  of  the 
house ! 


DICK.  Right  you  are.  Here,  give  me  your  fist.  [He 
helps  him  down.}  Come  on,  lad.  [He  gives  the  Boy  a 
hand  and  they  hurry  off  just  as  Truth  Jackson,  Col. 
Spotswood,  and  Wentworth  enter  through  the  gate.] 

WENTWORIII.  You  see  they  're  gone,  Miss  Truth. 
Nothing  to  look  at  here. 

COL.  SPOTSWOOD.    You  might  have  finished  the  song. 

TRUTH.  Oh,  dear!  I  did  so  much  want  to  see  them 
go  by.  But  father— oh,  father's  so  slow  and  so  stub- 
born sometimes. 

COL.  SPOTSWOOD.  Dear  lady,  your  father  was  right. 
Why  expose  yourself  to  the  insults  of  an  unmannerly 
mob? 

TRUTH.    Was  it  an  unmannerly  mob,  Mr.  Wentworth? 

WENTWORTH.  Colonel  Spotswood  exaggerates  the 
danger  of  insult.  The  Sons  of  Liberty  are  decent 
and  loyal  people.  Perhaps,  a  little  hasty  — 

COL.  SPOTSWOOD.  Hasty !  Good  Gad,  Sir!  Hasty! 
Their  daily  outrages  are  a  deliberate  affront  to  Govern- 
mental Authority ! 

WENTWORTH.  That  depends,  Colonel  Spotswood,  on 
what  you  consider  the  true  source  of  Governmental 
Authority.  They  are  loyal  to  the  King  and  to  the 
Assembly  of  Massachusetts  Bay. 

COL.  SPOTSWOOD.  Stuff,  Sir!  If  I  were  in  Governor 
Hutchinson's  shoes,  I  'd  take  no  dictation  from  your 
Mr.  Samuel  Adams  and  his  Assembly  of  farmers! 

WENTWORTH.  Mr.  Hutchinson  is  a  reasonable  man. 
He  understands  the  temper  of  the  Colonies.  I  wish 
there  were  more  like  him  in  power. 

COL.  SPOTSWOOD.    As  I  was  saying  at  supper 

[The  Colonel  and  Truth  seat  themselves  on  a 
bench  just  as  Jackson  and  Hutchinson  enter  by 
the  gate.] 


HUTCHINSON.  Quite  so,  quite  so.  But  I  see  it  in  a 
far  more  serious  light. 

JACKSON.  Stuff  and  nonsense.  Give  it  time  to  blow 
over.  Give  it  time— Ah,  Wentworth,  you  walked  too 
fast  for  us.  Where  's  Truth  ? 

WENTWORTH.  Your  daughter  has  deserted  me  for  a 
younger  man. 

JACKSON.  Serves  you  right,  Wentworth,  serves  you 
right.  You  should  keep  young  like  the  rest  of  us. 
This  infernal  worry  over  politics  is  making  an  old 
man  of  you. 

WENTWORTH.  My  money  obligations  press  me  hard. 
Trade  has  fallen  off  sadly. 

JACKSON.  Not  with  me,  sir!  Not  with  me!  Let 
me  give  you  a  bit  of  advice.  Leave  your  damned 
questions  of  penny  taxes  and  the  like  to  Adams  and 
his  pack  of  radicals.  They  've  got  nothing  to  lose. 
You  stick  to  your  counting-room. 

HUTCHINSON.  I  can  acquit  Mr.  Wentworth  of  being 
a  radical. 

JACKSON.  Any  man  with  a  sound  trade  should  keep 
clear  of  politics. 

WENTWORTH.  These  are  serious  days  for  the  Colonies. 
I  must  bear  my  part  of  the  risk. 

JACKSON.  Fiddlesticks !  Keep  to  the  old  way.  That  's 
my  motto.  Sell  honest  goods  at  an  honest  profit. 
Mind  your  own  affairs  and  the  Country  will  take  care 
of  itself. 

WENTWORTH.  The  malady  has  got  beyond  that  cure, 
Mr.  Jackson. 

HUTCHINSON.  I  am  an  officer  of  the  Crown ;  my 
interest  is  in  peace,  but  I  am  forced  to  see  the  dan- 
gers which  threaten  us. 

[Jackson  catches  sight  of  the  poster  on  the 
gate.  He  pulls  it  doivn,  takes  out  his  glasses, 
and  reads  it.  ] 


JACKSON.  Thunder  and  Mud!  Listen  to  this.  [He 
reads  aloud.]  "William  Jackson,  an  importer,  at  the 
Brazen  Head,  North  Side  of  the  Town-House  oppo- 
site the  Town-Pump  in  Cornhill,  Boston.  It  is  de- 
sired that  the  Sons  and  Daughters  of  Liberty  should 
not  buy  any  one  thing  of  him,  for  in  so  doing  they 
will  bring  disgrace  upon  themselves  and  their  Pos- 
terity, for  ever  and  ever,  Amen."  This  is  an  outrage ! 
Am  I  to  be  treated  as  a  public  enemy  because  I  abide 
by  the  laws.  Must  I  be  placarded  like  a  common 
cheat,  because  I  pay  my  just  taxes  and  refuse  to  let 
my  business  go  to  the  devil!  It  's  an  outrage,  sirs, 
it  's  a  damnable  outrage!  Governor  Hutchinson,  I 
appeal  to  you. 

HUTCHINSON.  I  fear,  Mr.  Jackson,  I  can  be  of  little 
service  to  you. 

WENTWORTH.     Pray,  sir,  be  reasonable! 

[As  the  three  men  continue  the  discussion,  a 
squad  of  British  soldiers  crosses  the  back  of  the 
stage.  Ensign  Pritchard  marches  last.  He  sees 
Gov.  Hutchinson,  halts,  and  salutes.] 

HUTCHINSON.  One  moment,  Mr.  Pritchard.  What  's 
the  trouble? 

PRITCHARD.  A  mob,  sir.  The  Sons  of  Liberty  again. 
We  have  orders  to  prevent  rioting. 

HUTCHINSON.  Take  care  you  don't  occasion  it,  Mr. 
Pritchard.  [Pritchard  salutes.]  Report  to  me  direct 
if  anything  unpleasant  occurs. 

PRITCHARD.  Very  good,  sir.  [He  salutes  again  and 
goes  off  after  the  soldiers.] 

[Mr.  Samuel  Adams  enters  from  up  the  street.] 

JACKSON.  By  Heaven!  It  's  Adams,  himself!  Well, 
sir! 

ADAMS.     [Smoothly.]     Ah,  good  evening  to  you,  Mr. 
"Jackson.      Governor    Hutchinson,    my    compliments. 
Wentworth,  your  servant.    This  is  most  fortunate. 


JACKSON  [Shaking  the  poster  in  Adams's  face].  Yes, 
sir.  I  call  it  very  fortunate  indeed !  Perhaps  you  can 
tell  me  the  meaning  of  this  infamous  scrap  of  paper. 

ADAMS.     What  is  it? 

JACKSON.  A  proclamation  issued  by  your  infernal 
Sons  of  Liberty.  An  effort  on  the  part  of  strangers 
to  dictate  to  me  how  I  shall  transact  my  personal 
business.  [With  scorn.]  Who  are  your  Sons  of 
Liberty  ? 

ADAMS.  A  society  of  honest  men  who  refuse  to  let  a 
Parliament  of  strangers  dictate  to  them  how  they 
shall  transact  the  private  business  of  the  American 
Colonies. 

JACKSON.  I  have  not  taken  sides.  I  only  ask  to  be 
let  alone. 

ADAMS.  Mr.  Jackson,  the  hour  has  come  when  we 
must  know  who  are  the  friends  of  Liberty.  There  is 
no  middle  ground.  The  notice  in  your  hand  should 
open  your  eyes  to  that. 

JACKSON.  Open  my  eyes!  Stuff  and  nonsense! 
Wentworth,  I  warned  you  against  this  man! 

ADAMS.  Ah,  that  reminds  me!  [He  turns  to  Went- 
zvorth.]  Mr.  Wentworth,  it  gives  me  pleasure  to  an- 
nounce that  you  have  been  selected  to  serve,  with  my 
cousin  Mr.  John  Adams  and  myself,  as  a  delegate  to 
the  General  Congress  of  the  Thirteen  Colonies  at 
Philadelphia.  I  hope  to  have  your  acceptance,  sir. 

WENTWCRTH.    Mr.  Adams,  I  hardly  know  — 

ADAMS.  Surely,  sir,  you  do  not  hesitate  to  accept  this 
mission  ? 

WENTWORTH.  I  am  quite  at  loss  — My  views  are  mod- 
erate—The Congress  is  like  to  take  some  very  radical 
steps  — 

[Pritchard  enters  and  salutes  Gov.  Hutchinson.] 


PRITCHARD.  You  asked  me  to  report,  sir,  if  anything 
unpleasant  occurred. 

HUTCHINSON  [Glancing  at  Adams,  zvho  is  listening 
intently].  Be  as  brief  as  possible,  Mr.  Pritchard. 

PRITCHARD.  It  was  a  bonfire.  We  had  no  trouble  in 
breaking-  up  the  crowd.  Some  disturbance,  not  much 
— two  of  our  fellows  struck  by  stones.  We  should 
have  got  the  place  nicely  cleared,  but  Hollingshead  's 
a  bit  nervous  and  gives  the  word  to  fire;  over  their 
heads,  of  course. 

HUTCHINSON.  I  have  advised  General  Gage  to  issue 
strict  orders  against  firing  under  any  circumstances. 
Go  on,  Mr.  Pritchard. 

PRITCHARD.    One  of  the  men  must  have  aimed  too  low. 

SPOTSWOOD.  And  winged  one  of  the  beggars,  eh? 
Serves  'em  jolly  well  right! 

ADAMS.     For  shame,  sir! 

[A  group  of  excited  patriots  crosses  the  stage 
at  the  back,  carrying  the  lame  boy,  ivho  is 
wounded.  The  boy,  Dick,  follows,  weeping.] 

HUTCHINSON.     So  they  wounded  a  man? 
PRITCHARD.     A  lame  boy,  sir. 

TRUTH.  Oh,  for  shame!  The  poor  child!  Was  he 
badly  hurt? 

PRITCHARD.    I  hope  not,  miss. 
HUTCHINSON.     This  is  most  unfortunate. 
PRITCHARD.    Yes,  sir.    The  crowd  is  in  a  nasty  temper. 

HUTCHINSON.  You  may  go,  Mr.  Pritchard.  [Prit- 
chard salutes  and  withdraws.]  Wretched  times  for 
us  all !  Poor  lad !  Mr.  Adams,  I  tell  you  I  would  do 
anything  within  my  duty  as  Governor  of  Massachu- 
setts Bay,  to  prevent  another  such  occurence. 

ADAMS.  Governor  Hutchinson,  I  respect  you  as  a  fair- 
minded  adversary.  Good  God,  sir,  no  one  realises  bet- 


ter  that  the  patience  of  the  Colonists  is  nearly  ex- 
hausted. We  know  at  least  where  you  stand.  It  is 
to  these  gentlemen  that  I  appeal.  Mr.  Jackson,  Mr. 
Wentworth,  we  have  come  to  the  parting  of  the  ways. 
As  honourable  men,  you  must  openly  take  sides  for  the 
struggle.  It  may  not  break  within  the  week  or  within 
the  year,  but  it  is  close  upon  us.  You  cannot  avoid  it. 
You  must  make  a  choice.  Come,  gentlemen,  Massa- 
chusetts Bay  shall  know  her  friends  and  her  enemies. 

WENTWORTH.  Mr.  Adams,  I  am  proud  to  accept  the 
mission  to  Philadelphia.  [He  gives  his  hand  to 
Adams.] 

ADAMS.  I  thank  you  on  behalf  of  the  Assembly. 
[Turning  to  Jackson].  And  you,  sir? 

JACKSON.  You  can  go  to  the  devil,  with  my  compli- 
ments ! 

ADAMS  [To  Hutchinson].  A  fair  division!  A  fair 
division,  sir.  I  am  doing  my  work  for  the  Peace  that 
will  follow  the  strife,  when  I  bring  these  men  to  un- 
derstand that  they  must  choose  between  us  and  our 
oppressors.  You  call  me  a  radical  because  I  cannot 
forget  the  blood  that  has  been  shed  in  Boston  streets, 
while  you  remember  only  your  merchandise  and  your 
money.  I  bid  you  good-night. 

[Adams  and  Wentworth  bow  and  go  out,  arm 
in  arm.} 

HUTCHINSON.    [To  Jackson.}    Have  you  chosen  wise- 

iy. 

JACKSON.  [Sullenly.]  No  man  shall  drive  me  to  ruin 
myself  for  a  pack  of  nonsense. 

HUTCHINSON.  I  am  the  King's  loyal  servant,  but  I 
wish  I  could  be  quite  sure  that  you  have  chosen  well. 


' 


THE  CRIER. 

And  now  I  bid  you  all  take  ship  with  me 

Along  our  coasts,  out  of  our  discontent ; 

Past  the  Dutch  colonies,  more  slow  to  wrath ; 

The  Jerseys,  where  the  good  Lord  Carteret 

First  brought  a  kindly  charter  and  just  laws; 

Past  Delaware,  the  Swedish  Lion's  pride, 

And  Penn's  blue  woods,  and  the  long  quarrelling  land 

Where  Baltimore's  tolerant  rule  was  quenched. 

So  to  Virginia.    I  would  bid  you  see 

The  men  who  from  their  ample  life  and  peace, 

Fair  acres  rich  since  Raleigh's  time,  went  forth 

To  join  our  perilous  councils.    These  were  grave 

And  seasoned  men,  bred  in  untroubled  days 

And  nurtured  in  old  hospitalities. 

These,  still  unsmitten  by  the  rod,  espouse 

With  staunch  and  resolute  hearts  our  desperate  cause. 

And  one  of  these  shall  ride  with  Destiny 

Through  the  embattled  years  to  deathless  fame. 


SCENE  II.  It  is  an  August  afternoon  in  the  Year 
1774.  The  place  is  a  terrace-garden  in  the 
grounds  of  Col.  Washington  at  Mt.  Vernon,  Vir- 
ginia. There  is  a  hedge  much  as  in  Scene  I,  but 
the  gate  is  larger,  and  in  a  different  position.  Mrs. 
Washington  is  seated  at  a  tea-table.  Miss  Malby 
is  standing  beside  her,  while  Mrs.  Fairfax,  Lady 
Caroline  Dunmore,  and  Mr.  Charles  Dunmore  are 
at  the  other  side  of  the  stage  admiring  a  view  of 
the  Potomac  River. 

MRS.  WASHINGTON.  You  find  our  view  a  pleasant  one, 
Lady  Caroline? 

LADY  CAROLINE.  It  is  quite  enchanting!  Your  Po- 
tomac is  a  lordly  river. 

CHARLES.  Mrs.  Washington,  I  quite  envy  the  gentle- 
men of  Virginia.  When  my  sister  and  I  accepted  the 
invitation  of  our  uncle,  Lord  Dunmore,  we  had  no 
idea  that  we  should  find  such  beautiful  estates,  and 
such  charming  hospitality. 

MISS  MALBY.    It  is  your  first  visit  to  the  Colonies? 

LADY  CAROLINE.  My  first ;  but  Charles  has  made  the 
voyage  to  Boston. 

CHARLES.  Their  society  is  raw  and  provincial  beside 
that  of  Virginia. 

MRS.  WASHINGTON.  Your  compliments  put  us  much  in 
your  debt,  Mr.  Dunmore. 

LADY  CAROLINE.  They  make  but  a  poor  return  for 
your  kindness,  Mrs.  Washington. 

MRS.  FAIRFAX.  From  here  you  can  catch  a  glimpse  of 
Colonel  Washington's  pinnace,  Charles. 

[She  points  through  the  trees  toward  the  river, 
and  as  the  young  people  give  her  their  atten- 
tion, Miss  Malby  speaks  to  Mrs.  Washington.] 


MISS  MALBY.  Dear  Martha,  here  is  the  list  of  things 
which  you  directed  me  to  order  for  you  from  Mr. 
Washington's  correspondent  in  London. 

MRS.  WASHINGTON.  I  fear  we  shall  do  without  them, 
Letitia. 

MISS  MALBY.  Do  without  them?  [She  reads  the  list.] 
"Two  fine  flowered  aprons,  six  pairs  women's  white 
silk  hose,  six  pairs  fine  cotton  ditto,  one  pair  black  and 
one  pair  white  satin  shoes  of  the  smallest  fives,  a  silver 
tabby  petticoat,  Miniken  pins,  masks,  bonnets,  pack- 
thread stays,  and  a  book  of  the  newest  and  best  songs 
set  to  music  for  the  spinnet." 

MRS.  WASHINGTON.  The  list  is  of  no  use,  my  dear. 
The  order  is  not  to  be  sent. 

LADY  CAROLINE.  [Who  has  overheard.]  Mrs.  Fairfax 
tells  me  that  all  your  ladies  of  fashion  send  to  London 
for  much  of  their  wardrobe. 

MRS.  WASHINGTON.  It  has  been  our  custom  to  do  so. 
Miss  Malby  was  just  now  reading  me  a  list  of  articles 
which  I  had  greatly  desired  from  London. 

CHARLES.  I  sail  for  England  within  the  month,  madam. 
It  will  give  me  pleasure  to  be  entrusted  with  your  com- 
missions. 

MRS.  WASHINGTON.  Many  thanks,  but  I  fear  we  shall 
have  nothing  from  England  for  a  time  at  least.  The 
gentlemen  of  the  county  have  passed  a  resolve  that 
we  import  no  British  goods,  except  articles  of  the  first 
necessity. 

LADY  CAROLINE.  But  surely  people  of  property,  able 
to  indulge  their  tastes,  will  continue  to  buy  what  they 
like. 

MRS.  WASHINGTON.  We  have  agreed,  dear  Lady  Caro- 
line, that  all  manner  of  luxury  and  extravagance  ought 
to  be  laid  aside  out  of  respect  for  the  sufferings  of  the 
people  of  Massachusetts. 


LADY  CAROLINE.  I  cannot  understand  why  you  should 
deny  yourselves  for  the  sake  of  a  distant  colony  of 
peasants  and  tradespeople. 

MISS  MALBY.  You  see,  nevertheless,  I  am  obliged  to 
tear  up  this  tempting  list  of  finery.  [She  tears  up  the 
list.] 

MISS  FAIRFAX.  It  is  our  duty  to  set  an  example  of 
temperance,  fortitude,  and  frugality. 

[Col.  Washington  enters  from  the  direction  of 
the  house,  and  greets  his  wife's  guests.} 

WASHINGTON.    Mrs.  Fairfax,  my  compliments.    Lady 

Caroline,  it  is  a  delight  to  welcome  you  to  Mount  Ver- 

non. 

LADY  CAROLINE.    Colonel  Washington,  let  me  present 

my  brother,  Mr.  Charles  Dunmore. 

CHARLES.  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Colonel 
Washington  in  Williamsburg. 

WASHINGTON.  To  be  sure.  I  am  glad  to  renew  the 
acquaintance. 

[He  shakes  hands  with  Charles  and  turns  to 

Mrs.  Washington.} 

WASHINGTON.  My  dear,  Mr.  Edmund  Pendelton  and 
Mr.  Patrick  Henry  are  arrived.  They  will  join  us 
presently. 

LADY  CAROLINE.  How  charming!  You  know  we  met 
them  both  at  the  ball  given  in  honor  of  my  aunt,  Lady 
Dunmore,  by  the  House  of  Burgesses. 

MRS.  WASHINGTON.     Pray,  Letitia,  find  Pompey  and 

tell  him  to  fetch  the  tea. 

[Miss  Malby  goes  toward  the  house,  the  other 
ladies  chat  with  Mrs.  Washington,  and  Col. 
Washington  joins  Charles.} 

CHARLES.  I  am  told,  sir,  this  Mr.  Henry  is  a  remark- 
able orator,  the  firebrand  of  sedition  in  your  House 
of  Burgesses;  that  he  can  make  black  look  white  if 
you  do  but  lend  him  your  ears. 


WASHINGTON.  He  is  a  fine  speaker,  deeply  impressed 
with  the  justice  of  his  cause. 

CHARLES.  A  man  of  parts,  sir,  I  grant  you.  But  do 
you  seriously  believe  in  such  an  alarming  and  danger- 
ous situation  as  he  pretends  to  foresee  ?  Will  the  gen- 
tlemen-planters of  the  southern  colonies  make  com- 
mon cause  with  a  parcel  of  merchants  and  petty  shop- 
keepers in  Boston  and  Philadelphia? 

WASHINGTON.  We  have  made  common  cause  with 
them  before  this,  Mr.  Dunmore,  in  the  French  and  In- 
dian War. 

CHARLES.  Surely,  that  was  a  different  matter.  You 
were  banded  against  an  alien  enemy. 

WASHINGTON.  The  Colonies  will  have  but  one  heart 
and  one  mind,  firmly  to  oppose  by  all  just  and  proper 
means  every  injury  to  American  rights. 

[Miss  Malby  enters,  followed  by  Pompey  car- 
rying a  tray  and  tea-service.] 

POMPEY.    Mr.  Pendelton  and  Mr.  Henry. 

[He  places  the  tray  on  the  table  just  as  Pendel- 
ton and  Henry  enter  from  the  House.  They 
greet  Mrs.  Washington,  Col.  Washington,  and 
the  other  guests  who  are  already  known  to 
them  both.  There  is  a  general  chatter  of  polite 
greetings  for  a  moment.  Patrick  Henry  joins 
Lady  Caroline,  Pendleton  remains  beside  Mrs. 
Washington  and  Miss  Malby  at  the  tea-table, 
while  the  others  form  a  third  group.] 

HENRY  [To  Lady  Caroline].  Are  you  still  the  hot- 
headed little  Tory  I  found  you  a  month  ago  at  the  ball 
at  Williamsburg? 

LADY  CAROLINE.  I  have  learned  much  in  a  month,  Mr. 
Henry,  about  Virginia  and  about  you. 

HENRY.  May  I  hope  that  your  political  sentiments 
have —  shall  I  say  —  softened? 


LADY  CAROLINE  [Gaily  taking  his  challenge].  Not  a 
whit,  sir!  I  am  still  a  loyal  subject. 

HENRY.  Loyal  you  may  be,  but  we,  too,  have  our  loy- 
alties. When  a  king  no  longer  governs  in  justice,  he 
ceases  to  be  a  king  in  right.  We  have  fallen  beneath 
the  weight  of  his  displeasure  and  we  bear  it  in  patience. 
But  we  have  seen  in  Massachusetts  and  the  North 
how  heavy  can  be  his  tyranny.  The  men  of  New  Eng- 
land are  our  countrymen,  and  they,  too,  command  our 
loyalty.  Property  has  been  disregarded.  Just  laws 
have  been  abrogated.  Blood  has  been  shed.  If  it  be 
loyalty  to  bear  all  this  in  silence  — 

LADY  CAROLINE.  You  speak,  Mr.  Henry,  as  though  I 
were  your  House  of  Burgesses. 

HENRY.  I  pray  you,  pardon  me.  I  am  loyal,  but  it 
seems  I  am  not,  as  you  are,  Lady  Caroline,  a  good  sub- 
ject. 

[Mrs.  Washington  has  poured  tea,  which  Pom- 
pey  has  handed  to  the  three  ladies.  She  now 
speaks  to  Pendelton.] 

MRS.  WASHINGTON.  May  I  give  you  a  dish  of  tea, 
Mr.  Pendelton?  It  is  soon  like  to  become  as  scarce 
a  commodity  here  as  in  Boston. 

PENDELTON.  I  think  I  may  stretch  a  point  of  con- 
science, madame.  [He  takes  the  tea.] 

MISS  MALBY.  You  need  have  no  fear.  It  was  pur- 
chased before  they  passed  the  Resolves. 

LADY  CAROLINE.  How  absurd  to  think  of  doing  with- 
out tea.  That  seems  too  cruel,  Mr.  Henry. 

CHARLES.     Will  your  Congress  prohibit   exports   as 
well?    It  would  seem  an  easy  way  to  repudiate  your 
debts  to  England. 
PENDELTON.    We  have  no  such  desire,  Mr.  Dunmore. 

WASHINGTON.  If  we  owe  money  to  England,  nothing 
but  the  last  necessity  can  justify  the  non-payment  of 
it. 


CHARLES.    There  has  been  talk  of  such  repudiation. 

HENRY.  We  will  see  every  other  method  first  tried 
which  is  legal  and  which  will  facilitate  these  payments. 

LADY  CAROLINE.  What  will  be  the  end  of  this  wrangle, 
Col.  Washington? 

WASHINGTON.  I  fear  none  of  us  can  see  that  far, 
Lady  Caroline. 

MRS.  FAIRFAX.  Caroline,  Mr.  Dunmore,  I  think  the 
coach  is  waiting.  Dear  Martha,  it  has  been  a  delight- 
ful afternoon.  Good-day,  Colonel  Washington,  Mr. 
Henry,  Mr.  Pendelton. 

WASHINGTON  [Bowing].  My  compliments  to  your 
husband. 

MRS.  WASHINGTON.    It  was  sweet  of  you  to  drive  over. 
HENRY.    Good-day,  Mrs.  Fairfax. 
PENDELTON.    Good-day,  madame. 

LADY  CAROLINE.  This  has  been  a  great  pleasure,  Mrs. 
Washington.  Colonel  Washington— Mr.  Pendelton — 
good-day.  [To  Henry.]  Mr.  Henry,  you  have  failed 
to  win  me  over.  I  fear  you  are  a  sad  rebel. 

HENRY  [Bowing].    It  had  been  worth  the  effort. 

CHARLES.  Mrs.  Washington,  gentlemen,  I  bid  you 
good-day. 

[Mrs.  Fairfax  and  her  guests  go  out  through 
the  gate,  amid  another  little  flutter  of  leave- 
taking.  Col.  Washington  follows  them,.  Henry 
and  Pendelton  remain  with  Mrs.  Washington 
and  Miss  Malby.] 

MRS.  WASHINGTON.  My  husband  tells  me  that  he  goes 
with  you  to-morrow  as  a  delegate  to  the  Congress  at 
Philadelphia. 

PENDELTON.    We  count  upon  his  company. 


MRS.  WASHINGTON.  His  family  can  ill  spare  him.  I 
trust  you  will  be  firm,  as  he  will  be.  This  service  is  a 
great  honour,  a  sacred  duty. 

HENRY.  We  believe  it  to  be  so.  [The  tone  of  conver- 
sation is  HOW  grave,  in  contrast  to  the  lightness  of  the 
previous  scene.] 

MISS  MALBY.  I  envy  you  the  right  to  represent  Vir- 
ginia. She  will  have  an  eloquent  voice  to  speak  for 
her. 

HENRY.  If  you  speak  of  eloquence,  Mr.  Rutledge,  of 
South  Carolina,  is  by  far  the  greatest  orator;  but  if 
you  speak  of  solid  information  and  sound  judgment, 
Colonel  Washington  will  be,  unquestionably,  the  great- 
est man  on  the  floor.  [Col.  Washington  has  reentered 
in  time  to  hear  the  last  sentence.] 

WASHINGTON.  You  do  me  too  much  honour.  I  am  a 
man  of  limited  abilities,  but  I  shall,  I  hope,  fulfil  my 
duties. 

MISS  MALBY.  Will  there  be  talk  of  absolute  indepen- 
dence ? 

HENRY.  The  Thing  is  in  preparation.  It  is  only  the 
Word  which  some  of  us  still  fear. 

MISS  MALBY.    What  do  you  say,  Colonel  Washington? 

WASHINGTON.  That  I,  for  one,  am  determined,  what- 
ever the  end  of  this  struggle,  to  devote  my  life  and  my 
property  to  the  cause  of  Liberty  and  Justice.  • 


THE  CRIER. 

Now  sharp  alarms  are  sounding  in  the  North, 

And  we  must  set  our  rudders  'gainst  the  blast, 

And  coasting  home,  furl  sails  by  Boston  Quay. 

Congress  has  met,  and  moderate  words  prevail. 

The  King  is  deaf  to  our  petitions.    Here 

In  Boston  winter-long  the  fires  of  strife 

Have  smouldered.    Now  the  tea-ship's  luckless  freight 

Stains  the  deep  harbour,  and  the  scented  wind 

Blows  us  dark  prophecies  from  out  the  East. 

The  port  is  closed.    And  we  must  yield  or  starve. 

Ill  fares  it  with  the  King,  whose  ministers 

Repress  and  hesitate ;  and  ill  with  those 

Who  deem  it  treason  to  deny  the  laws ; 

And  ill  with  us,  who  dare  to  cry  aloud, 

Gather  and  muster.    Loyalty  must  die 

In  some  dim  clashing  hour  that  threatens  here. 

Spring  wakes  —  the  Spring  of  'Seventy-Five, 

And  cloaks  in  green  and  rose  our  stubborn  hills. 

Now  on  the  village  square  at  Lexington 

Our  men  are  met  —  so  dauntless  —  and  so  few 

To  bar  the  way  against  the  ruthless  tread 

Of  our  oppressors.    Let  the  patriot  heart 

Beat  high  with  memories ;  let  your  eyes  behold 

Not  the  faint  shadows  that  play  here  to-night, 


But  the  immortal  valour  of  that  morn 

When  first  uprose  the  smokes  of  war,  and  blood 

On  the  green  grass  cried  out  for  Liberty. 

SCENE  III.  [The  time  is  early  morning  on  the  ipth 
of  April,  7775.  The  Place  is  the  Town-Common 
at  Lexington.  When  the  scene  opens,  a  company 
of  Minute  Men  are  waiting  on  the  Common. 
Those  zt'ho  hare  come  in  from  the  more  distant 
farms  have  pitched  a  sort  of  rude  camp,  and  are 
cooking  and  eating  their  breakfast.  Near  the 
centre  of  the  back  of  the  stage  is  seen  the  house 
of  Jonathan  Harrington.  Mrs.  Harrington  stands 
on  the  low  steps  and  is  passing  out  refreshments 
to  the  men.  Harrington  and  Capt.  Parker  stand 
apart  from  the  others  talking  earnestly.  There  is 
little  noise  of  any  kind.] 

A  YOUNG  FARMER.  Cap'n  Parker,  I  Ve  been  here  since 
three  this  morning.  If  there  ain't  any  present  use  for 
me,  I  'd  like  to  go  out  home  and  tell  my  wife  to  drive 
in  the  cows. 

CAPT.  PAR'KER.  I  cant  let  any  man  leave  this  Com- 
mon. There  's  like  to  be  fighting  here.  I  'm  waiting 
for  orders. 

YOUNG  FARMER.  You  're  plumb  sure  there 's  going  to 
be  fighting  right  here,  are  you? 

PARKER.  I  hope  not ;  but  I  'm  afraid  we  can't  avoid  it 
without  running  away. 

YOUNG  FARMER.  All  right,  cap'n.  I  '11  stay.  The  cows 
can  wait.  [He  saunters  back  to  the  Minute  Men.] 

HARRINGTON  [To  Parker].  We  have  only  sixty  or 
seventy  men,  a  few  rounds  of  ammunition,  and  no 
cannon.  Shall  we  be  able  to  hold  back  the  soldiers  ? 

PARKER.  That  depends  on  the  force  they  bring  against 
us,  Mr.  Harrington.  We  are  here  to  check  the  British 
until  the  military  stores  at  Concord  can  be  safely 
moved.  We  can  only  do  our  best  under  the  circum- 
stances. 


[Enter  Bowman  from  the  right.  He  goes  hur- 
riedly up  to  Parker  and  Harrington  and  speaks 
to  the  former.] 

BOWMAN.    Are  you  Captain  Parker? 

PARKER.    I  am.    What 's  your  business  with  me? 

BOWMAN.  My  name  's  Bowman.  I  was  with  Revere 
and  Dawes  and  Prescott  last  night.  They  gave  me 
word  to  watch  the  Lexington  road.  You  'd  better  get 
your  men  formed,  captain.  The  British  are  coming. 

PARKER.    About  how  many  did  you  count? 

BOWMAN.  Six  light  companies.  They  're  right  behind 
us.  Hark  to  that !  It 's  the  drums  now ! 

[There  is  a  sound  of  drums  in  the  distance. 
The  Minute  Men  listen,  point  in  the  direction  of 
the  sound,  and  begin  to  reach  for  their  mus- 
kets.] 

PARKER.    Attention,  all  of  you! 

[The  sound  of  drums  draws  nearer.    The  Min- 
ute Men  form  in  a  double  line  at  the  left  of  the 
stage.     Parker,  with  Harrington   beside    him, 
takes  his  place  in  front  of  them.] 
Look  to  your  primings ! 

[Maj.  Pit  cairn  enters  at  the  head  of  the  British, 
from  the  right.  They  draw  up  facing  the 
Americans.] 

MAJ.  PITCAIRN.    Disperse,  ye  rebels ;  disperse ! 

PARKER  [To  his  own  men].  Stand  your  ground. 
Don't  fire  unless  fired  upon,  but  if  they  mean  to  have 
war  let  it  begin  here. 

MAJ.  PITCAIRN.  In  the  name  of  his  gracious  Majesty, 
George  the  Third,  I  call  upon  you  to  lay  down  your 
arms,  or  take  the  consequences  of  your  rebellion! 
[Turning  to  his  soldiers.]  Make  ready!  Take  aim! 
[To  the  Americans.]  For  the  last  time,  I  call  upon 
you  to  disperse ! 


PARKER.     Stand  your  ground,  men ! 
MAJ.  PITCAIRN.    Fire ! 

[The  soldiers  pour  in  a  volley.  Several  Minute 
Men  fall.  Others  reply  to  the  British  fire  with 
a  few  scattering  shots,  advance  a  few  steps,  as 
if  to  attack,  are  met  with  another  volley,  break 
their  formation,  and  retreat  to  the  left.  Har- 
rington falls  close  to  the  steps  of  his  own  house. 
The  soldiers  remain  in  position.  They  wave 
their  hats  and  shout,  "God  save  the  King!"  etc.] 

MAJ.  PITCAIRN.  Attention!  We  are  to  take  the  Con- 
cord Road.  Left,  forward,  fours  left !  March ! 

[A  lieutenant  and  a  sergeant  repeat  the  order 
and  the  British  detachment  marches  off,  back  to 
the  left,  in  direction  of  Concord.  Mrs.  Har- 
rington and,  the  other  women  come  out  of  the 
house.  Harrington  drags  himself  to  the  steps 
and  dies  in  his  wife's  arms.  The  other  women 
run  out  and  kneel  beside  the  dead  and  ivounded 
Minute  Men. 

[The  lights  go  out,  leaving  the  stage  dark. 

[When  the  lights  come  up  again,  a  few  hours 
are  supposed  to  have  elapsed.  It  is  noon  of  the 
same  day  and  Lord  Percy,  ivith  a  reinforce- 
ment of  British  foot,  is  holding  Lexington 
Common.  Half  a  dozen  men  are  on  sentry 
duty.  Lord  Percy  and  Lieutenant  Nash  are 
walking  up  and  down  together  near  the  front 
of  the  stage.  There  is  sound  of  firing  in  the 
extreme  distance.] 

LORD  PERCY.  I  don't  fancy  that  firing,  Mr.  Nash.  [He 
stops  to  listen.]  It  sounds  as  though  Colonel  Smith 
and  Major  Pitcairn  might  be  falling  back  from  Con- 
cord. 

LIEUT.  NASH.  Surely,  my  lord,  Colonel  Smith  would 
not  think  it  worth  while  to  hold  the  place  after  he  has 
destroyed  the  rebel  supplies. 


LORD  PERCY.  If  he  has  been  successful,  it  is  too  early 
to  expect  him  to  fall  back  on  this  position,  Mr.  Nash. 
His  men  have  been  marching  and  fighting  all  day. 
Any  good  officer  would  halt  at  least  an  hour  for  rest 
and  rations. 

[The  sound  of  firing  becomes  louder.] 

LIEUT.  NASH.  You  cannot  suppose  that  these  raw  mili- 
tia companies  have  been  able  to  stand  against  our  regu- 
lars* 

LORD  PERCY  [Listening  again  to  the  firing].  I  don't 
like  it,  sir.  The  whole  country  is  up.  I  don't  like 
these  narrow  lanes  and  these  cursed  stone  fences. 
They  can  pick  our  men  off  like  rabbits  at  every  corner. 

[A   trooper  enters  front  the  left  and  salutes 

Lord  Percy.] 

THE  TROOPER.  From  Colonel  Smith  and  Major  Pit- 
cairn,  sir !  Our  troops  met  with  unexpected  resistance 
at  Concord.  The  rebel  stores  had  been  removed.  Col- 
onel Smith  is  falling  back  on  your  support.  He  is  do- 
ing so  in  good  order,  but  the  rebels  are  out  in  great 
force.  They  fight  from  behind  the  rocks  and  trees 
like  red  Indians.  Our  losses  are  heavy,  sir. 

LORD  PERCY.  You  see,  Mr.  Nash !  We  shall  be  lucky 
to  get  back  to  Boston  without  serious  trouble. 

LIEUT.  NASH.  They  can  hardly  do  our  fresh  troops 
much  damage,  my  lord.  One  British  soldier  should  be 
a  match  for  three  of  those  farmers  in  the  open. 

LORD  PERCY.  We  shall  not  have  them  in  the  open,  and 
you  forget  that  we  are  fighting  against  men  of  our 
own  blood.  We  may  count  on  meeting  true  British 
pluck.  You  may  give  the  men  their  orders. 

[The  firing  is  now  very  near.  Lieut.  Nash  gives 
some  orders  which  are  not  heard  by  the  audi- 
ence. The  soldiers  form  across  the  right  of  the 
stage.  The  men  of  Smith's  detachment  begin  to 
straggle  in,  and  take  positions  behind  Lord 
Percy's  reenforcemenis.  Pitcairn  enters  and 


stands  beside  Percy.  The  Americans  are  seen 
through  the  trees,  to  the  left.  The  British  fire 
a  volley,  which  is  returned.  The  Americans  ad- 
vance, shouting  and  firing  as  they  come.  The 
British  begin  to  give  way,  fire  one  more  volley 
and  retreat  slowly  in  the  direction  of  Boston 
(To  the  right).  The  Americans  cross  the  stage 
in  pursuit,  cheering.] 


THE  CRIER. 

Now  are  we  come  to  trial  of  our  strength, 

And  our  gaunt  patriot  bands  are  in  the  field 

To  meet  the  armies  of  an  empire ;  now  the  name 

Of  Independence,  spoken  openly 

Is  on  men's  lips,  and  we  defy  the  King. 

Let  now  a  year  of  deepening  struggle  pass : 

The  stubborn  fight  on  Bunker  Hill,  when  first 

In  pitted  battle,  line  on  serried  line, 

They  came  against  us,  and  we  drove  them  back. 

Now  Congress  takes  these  troops  to  be  its  own, 

And  gives  command,  beneath  the  Cambridge  elm, 

To  the  renowned  Virginian,  Washington. 

He  lays  round  Boston  town  a  bitter  siege, 

And  the  King's  men  take  flight.    This  year-long  strife 

We  pass — the  march  and  counter-march, 

Defeats  and  victories.    But  still  we  fight 

Without  a  name  or  nation,  and  our  war 

In  the  world's  eyes,  is  a  rebellious  war ; 

And  Washington, 

Head  of  our  starving  army,  is  a  man 

With  a  great  cause,  but  still  without  a  flag. 

Behold,  here  in  New  York,  where  now  he  camps, 


A  messenger  brings  news  of  a  great  hour — 
A  mighty  deed  not  wrought  with  arms  and  fire — 
Word  of  a  nation's  birth.    And  we  shall  hear 
Resounding  through  the  unborn  centuries 
This  Declaration,  while  the  world  shall  stand. 

SCENE  IV.  [It  is  early  evening  in  July,  1776,  just 
after  Lord  Hoive's  fleet  has  arrived  in  harbour 
of  New  York,  and  just  before  the  news  of  the 
signing  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence  has 
reached  the  Continental  Army.  The  place  is  an 
open  square  in  the  town  of  Neiv  York.  At  the 
back  of  the  stage  is  an  equestrian  statue  of  George 
III.  At  the  right  is  a  house  which  Gen.  Washing- 
ton is  using  for  his  temporary  headquarters. 
There  are  also  the  fronts  of  several  other  houses 
in  sight.  Two  soldiers  of  the  General's  Guard  are 
on  sentry  duty,  one  before  the  door  of  headquar- 
ters and  the  other  at  the  back  of  the  stage.  About 
a  dozen  others  lounge  at  the  foot  of  the  statue, 
smoking  and  playing  cards.  The  butcher's  boy 
enters  from  the  left.  He  carries  a  large  basket 
and  is  whistling.  He  wiggles  his  fingers  at  the 
nearest  sentry.  The  soldiers  laugh,  and  he  crosses 
the  stage  as  if  to  enter  the  door  of  headquarters. 
The  sentry  at  the  door  halts  him.] 

SENTRY.    Hold  up  there !    Where  d  'ye  think  ye  're  go- 
ing? 

BOY.    Into  the  house,  o'  course. 

SENTRY.    This  is  General  Washington's  headquarters. 
What  d  'ye  want  ? 

BOY.    Mebbe  I  wants  to  join  the  Army.    Le'me  by; 
I  'm  in  a  hurry. 

SENTRY.    Give  the  password. 

BOY.    I  ain't  got  no  password.    Le  'me  by !    I  got  a  cut 
of  meat  for  the  cook. 


SENTRY.    Put  yer  meat  on  the  steps.    I  '11  see  she  gets 
it. 

BOY.    Not  I !    I  got  to  have  the  money  for  it. 

SENTRY.    Off  ye  go  then ! 

OTHER  SENTRY.    Oh,  let  the  lad  by,  Tod !    The  General 

must  eat. 

[The  soldiers  laugh  again.  Lieut.  Prosby  enters 
from  the  left,  in  time  to  hear  what  follows.] 

SENTRY.    It 's  against  orders.    Here,  youngster,  sneak 

around  to  the  back  door. 

[The  boy  runs  around  the  side  of  the  house. 
Prosby  strides  to  the  centre  of  the  stage  very 
importantly.] 

PROSBY.      [To  the  soldiers,  who  are  still  laughing.] 

Here,  you !     Why  are  n't  you  standing  at  attention  ? 

Where  's  your  corporal  ?    Get  up  and  form !    The  Gen- 
eral 's  coming. 

[The  soldiers  shuffle  into  line  and  stand  at  at- 
tention. Prosby  turns  to  the  sentry  at  the  door 
and  speaks  in  the  gruffest  voice.} 

Attention,  sentry! 

SENTRY.    Yes,  sir. 

PROSBY.     You  just  let  that  boy  go  into  headquarters 

without  giving  the  password.     You  've  disobeyed  or- 
ders.   I  could  have  you  in  the  guard-house. 

OTHER  SENTRY.     [Familiarly.}     Look  here,  lieutenant! 

You  and  me  and  Tod,  there,  worked  in  the  same  shop 

back  in  Guilford,  and  we  're  all  likely  to  be  working 

there  again.    My  time  's  up  next  week. 

PROSBY.    Shut  up !    This  is  no  discipline. 

SENTRY.    You  might  speak  to  a  man  decent.    There  's 

no  harm  done. 

PROSBY.    I  've  a  mind  to  report  you  both. 

OTHER  SENTRY.    Don't  be  uppity.    Come  now,  lend  me 

some  tobacco  and  we'll  cry  quits. 

PROSBY.     [Much  flustered.}     You  '11  try  this  sort  of 

thing  once  too  often. 


[He  rushes  into  the  house,  amid  a  new  burst  of 
laughter  from  the  men,  just  as  Gen.  Washing- 
ton and  Gen.  Sullivan  enter  from  the  left.    The 
soldiers  spruce  up  and  present  arms.} 
SULLIVAN.     General  Washington,  I  find  it  more  and 
more  difficult  to  deal  with  the  Civil  Authorities.    The 
whole  town  is  alive  with  Tory  plots.    There  are  many 
who  believe  it  must  be  given  up  within  the  week. 

WASHINGTON.  We  must  have  patience  and  fortitude, 
General  Sullivan. 

SULLIVAN.  We  must  have  supplies,  money,  and  men. 
The  British  have  thirty  thousand  troops  on  Staten  Is- 
land. Lord  Howe's  fleet  has  newly  arrived  to  support 
them,  and  we  can  barely  count  ten  thousand  of  our 
soldiers  who  are  not  in  the  hospitals  or  on  furlough. 
The  Congress  at  Philadelphia  is  our  only  responsible 
source  of  authority.  Will  Congress  do  nothing? 
WASHINGTON.  Congress  will  do  what  it  can.  I  have 
argued  the  need  of  regularly  enlisted  troops  to  replace 
the  militia  regiments.  I  have  begged  for  arms,  cloth- 
ing, and  hospital  supplies.  We  must  wait. 
SULLIVAN.  In  the  meantime,  the  British  will  strike  be- 
fore we  have  the  strength  or  the  experience  to  oppose 
them. 

WASHINGTON.  We  will  neglect  no  means  by  which  we 
can  hasten  that  strength  and  experience,  General  Sul- 
livan. 

SULLIVAN.  The  position  is  well  nigh  hopeless,  sir.  The 
army  can  only  be  saved  by  abandoning  it  at  once. 

WASHINGTON.    I  look,  sir,  beyond  the  present  hour  and 

the  immediate  military  situation.    We  can  better  afford 

to  suffer  than  to  dampen  the  spirit  of  the  Country  by 

giving  up  New  York  without  a  determined  struggle. 

[Col.  Wells  enters,  followed  by  Capt.  Marsh, 

who  is  under  arrest.    Marsh  is  guarded  by  two 

soldiers.] 

COLONEL  WELLS.  [Saluting  Gen.  Washington.]  A 
prisoner,  your  excellency. 


WASHINGTON.  Why  is  he  wearing  the  uniform  of  an 
American  officer  ? 

CAPT.  MARSH.  I  'm  not  a  British  spy,  if  that 's  what 
you  mean.  My  name  's  Marsh.  I  'm  a  captain  in  the 
New  Jersey  Militia. 

WASHINGTON.  What  is  the  charge  against  Captain 
Marsh? 

COL.  WELLS.  He  was  caught  with  a  party  of  men  plun- 
dering a  house  just  outside  our  lines.  He  was  ordered 
to  return  the  goods,  as  taken  contrary  to  general  or- 
ders, which  he  not  only  refused  to  do,  but  drew  up  his 
party  and  swore  he  would  defend  them  at  the  hazard 
of  his  life. 

WASHINGTON.    This  is  a  serious  affair,  Captain  Marsh. 

CAPT.  MARSH.  The  men  were  in  wretched  condition; 
half  rations  for  more  than  a  week,  General  Washing- 
ton. They  were  poorly  clad,  every  one  of  them,  been 
on  double  duty  four  days  and  four  nights.  Three  of 
them  were  sick  with  a  fever.  I  tried  to  get  relief  but 
couldn't.  We  only  took  food  and  clothing. 

WASHINGTON.  I  am  forced  to  sympathise  with  you, 
Captain  Marsh,  and  I  regret  the  necessary  severity, 
but  you  must  stand  trial  for  plundering,  disobedience 
of  orders,  and  mutiny.  Colonel  Wells,  you  may  re- 
move your  prisoner. 

[Col.  Wells  salutes  and  withdraws,  followed  by 
Marsh  and  the  two  soldiers.  Washington  turns 
to  Sullivan.} 

An  army  formed  of  good  officers  moves  like  clock- 
work; but  there  is  no  situation  on  earth  less  enviable 
or  more  distressing  than  that  person's  when  he  is  at 
the  head  of  troops  regardless  of  order  and  discipline, 
and  unprovided  with  almost  every  necessity. 

[Col.  Reed  enters  with  Col.  Pater  son,  Lord 
Howe's  adjutant-general,  and  an  escort  of  four 
American  soldiers.  Col.  Wells  and  Lieut.  Pros- 
by  also  return  together.] 


COL.  REED.  Your  excellency,  this  is  Colonel  Paterson, 
adjutant-general  to  Lord  Howe. 

WASHINGTON.  I  am  pleased  to  receive  you,  Colonel 
Paterson. 

COL.  PATERSON.  You  are  most  kind,  sir.  Pray  accept 
my  compliments. 

WASHINGTON.  May  I  enquire  the  nature  of  your  er- 
rand? 

COL.  PATERSON.  I  am  the  bearer  of  a  letter  from  Lord 
Howe  to  Mr.  George  Washington. 

WASHINGTON.  [Smiling.]  Is  it  by  Lord  Howe's  or- 
ders that  you  decline  to  address  me  by  my  proper  title  ? 
My  position  is  well  known. 

COL.  PATERSON.  Both  on  Lord  Howe's  part  and  my 
own,  I  regret  the  apparent  discourtesy,  but  we  cannot 
officially  recognize  the  source  of  your  military  rank. 

WASHINGTON.  In  that  case,  Colonel  Paterson,  out  of 
respect  for  the  Congress  which  gave  me  that  rank,  I 
cannot  officially  receive  Lord  Howe's  letter. 

COL.  PATERSON.  It  contains  an  offer  of  free  pardon  to 
your  excellency  and  to  all  other  Americans  now  in 
arms  against  his  gracious  Majesty,  George  the  Third. 

WASHINGTON.  I  am  to  understand  that  Lord  Howe's 
power  extends  only  to  granting  of  pardons  ? 

COL.  PATERSON.  He  is  not  empowered  to  treat  in  re- 
gard to  terms. 

WASHINGTON.  Then,  sir,  there  is  little  use  in  arguing 
the  matter.  Americans  battling  for  their  rights  re- 
quire no  pardons. 

COL.  PATERSON.    You  will  not  accept  the  letter  ? 

WASHINGTON.  The  interview  is  ended,  Colonel  Pater- 
son. 

COL.  PATERSON.  [Bowing.]  I  regret  my  lack  of  suc- 
cess. [He  turns  to  Col  Reed.}  Will  you  replace  the 
blindfold,  Colonel  Reed? 


WASHINGTON.  You  may  dispense  with  that.  Colonel 
Paterson  is  welcome  to  see  what  he  can.  I  bid  you 
good-day. 

COL.  PATERSON.  Good-day,  sir.  [He  bows  and  goes 
out  with  Col.  Reed  and  the  escort.  Lieut.  Prosby  fol- 
lows them  off.} 

WASHINGTON.  General  Sullivan,  you  will  at  once  take 
steps  to  strengthen  the  works  on  Brooklyn  Heights. 

[He  tnoves  toward  the  door  of  headquarters 
and  stands  on  the  first  step.  Lieut.  Prosby  re- 
turns, followed  by  a  Messenger.} 

PROSBY.  Your  excellency!  A  Messenger  from  the 
Congress  at  Philadelphia! 

WASHINGTON.  [Turning  to  the  Messenger.}  Ah! — 
Come,  man,  speak  up. 

MESSENGER.  I  must  speak  to  the  Commander-in-Chief 
of  the  Armies  of  the  United  States  of  America. 

WASHINGTON.    I  am  General  George  Washington. 

MESSENGER.  [Saluting.]  I  am  directed,  sir,  to  bring 
you  the  greetings  of  Congress  and  to  say  that  on  the 
fourth  day  of  July  Was  declared  the  absolute  indepen- 
dence of  the  American  Nation. 

[  Washington  and  the  other  officers  take  off 
their  hats.  The  soldiers  raise  a  shout,  and  the 
Messenger  gives  Washington  a  rolled  copy  of 
the  Declaration.  Washington  raises  his  hand 
for  silence.] 

WASHINGTON.  Gentlemen,  you  have  heard  the  glorious 
news.  It  brings  with  it  new  faith  and  new  strength. 
You  have  been  steadfast  in  your  stand  against  injus- 
tice and  the  invasion  of  your  rights  by  a  King  and 
Parliament.  You  must  now  be  equally  steadfast  in 
cherishing  the  honour  and  dignity  of  your  new-born 
Republic.  The  peace  and  safety  of  the  country  de- 
pend, under  God,  solely  on  the  success  of  our  arms. 

[There  is  a  sound  of  bells  and  shouting  in  the 

distance.] 


COL.  WELLS.  The  news  is  over  half  the  town  already. 
Will  you  order  a  parade  of  the  troops  ? 

WASHINGTON.  Colonel  Wells,  you  may  send  word  to 
the  Generals  of  Brigade  to  assemble  all  companies  not 
actually  needed  on  duty.  Come,  gentlemen,  we  must 
read  the  Declaration  to  the  Army. 

[There  is  a  sound  of  drums.  The  square  is 
rapidly  filling  with  soldiers  and  townsfolk.  An- 
other detachment  of  soldiers  crosses  the  back  of 
the  stage  in  good  order  with  drums  and  colours. 
They  are  followed  by  a  mob  of  boys  and  men.] 

THE  CROWD.  Hurrah  for  Liberty!  Hurrah  for  Inde- 
pendence! Down  with  the  British!  Hurrah  for  the 
Army ! 

[The  Crier  mounts  upon  a  box  and  reads  the 
Declaration  of  Independence,  the  crowd  cheer- 
ing and  shouting.  The  butcher's  boy  elbows 
through  the  crowd  and  climbs  on  to  a  barrel, 
and  points  to  the  statue  of  George  the  Third.] 

THE  BOY.  Look  at  George  the  Third!  Look  at  the 
bloody  tyrant ! 

THE  CROWD.  [Pointing  and  shaking  their  fists  at  the 
statue.]  Aye,  aye!  Look  at  him!  Look  at  the  King! 
Build  a  bonfire  under  his  horse!  Make  him  move. 

THE  BOY.  [Still  screaming.]  Pull  him  down!  Pull 
him  down! 

THE  CROWD.  Pull  him  down !  Pull  him  down !  Pull 
him  down !  Get  ropes ! 

[It  is  now  almost  dark.  Some  of  the  crowd 
have  lighted  torches,  some  light  red  fires,  while 
others  throw  ropes  about  the  neck  of  the  statue. 
There  are  more  cries  of  "Pull  him  down."  The 
men  lay  hold  of  the  ropes  and  the  statue  comes 
down  with  a  crash.  There  is  a  great  shout  and 
the  lights  go  out,  leaving  the  stage  in  total  dark- 
ness.] 


